The 69th Annual Hunger Games
by TikTok-ItsAClock
Summary: First installment of The 69th Annual Hunger Games from Sol's Point of View. sorry if you dont think it's so great, im not much of a writer


Silent. It's how the reaping day always is. I sit up in my bed and look out the window. The sun is up and there are only a few clouds in the sky. "How can it be such a perfect day?" I think to myself. "People are going to be selected to fight to the death today..."

I dress up nicer than I usually do, and comb my hair out of it's mess. For some reason we dress up nicer on the day of our possible journey towards death. Yes there is one winner, but it's usually one of the trained tributes from District 1 or 2. I walk out of my room, walk into the kitchen and begin to make breakfast for Rose and I. Rose is eleven years old. She has long, dirty-blonde, wavy hair. She has green eyes with golden flakes; and a smile that could end war, or even start one. She is who I care for most and would do anything to protect.

"What are you making?"

I look over my shoulder, and there she is. "Happy birthday! And nothing special," I smile, "just some eggs and toast."

"Oh," she sits down at the table, "and thank you!" She smiles.

I giver her her food and I sit down across from her to eat. Normally Rose likes to talk and she's very energetic, but this morning she sits in silence.

"You're nervous I take it?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I guess. Who isn't?" She moves the eggs around on her plate with her fork.

"True. You'll be fine, it's your first year." I get up and pick up her plate and put our dishes in the sink. I walk towards Rose, "I'll be back to come and get you for the raping." I kiss her on the forehead, "See you soon."

"Okay, bye."

I walk out the door and go down to the bakery to pick up a cake I ordered for Rose's twelfth birthday. A few of her friends are coming over tonight to celebrate. It's not a big cake, but it says "Happy Birthday Rose." She'll like it. On my way back I dcide to pass by the setup for the reaping. People are finishing putting the stage together. It's almost 9:00am so I hurry home to get Rose.

Once home, I put the cake in my room so Rose won't be able to see it. I walk downstairs. "You ready, Rose?"

She walks out with my mom next to her.

"Well don't you look beautiful?"

She smiles, "Thank you. This was mom's dress when she was twelve."

"Yes it was, and I'm glad I was able to be home today to see you in it." My mom says.

My mom is never home. Ever since our dad dropped dead, my mom had to take an extra shift at her work. One night, eight years ago, our dad didn't come home from work. We didn't find out until the next day that he was flat out dead down the road from our house. We were all devastated, but my mom swore to take care of us. She's strong, but sometimes it's not enough. Because of this, I've had to take a few extra tesseraes. My name is in the reaping bowl twenty-three times.

"Well, you two should probably get going. I'll be in the parents area." She hugs Rose, "I'll see you two soon," I hear her whisper into Rose's ear.

I hold out my hand for Rose and we walk out the door. I can feel her hand shaking in mine. Her face shows the fear she has.

"You'll be fine. Trust me." I say with a smile.

" I know I will, it's you I'm worried about." Her voice is jittery.

"I've made it this long haven't I? I'll be fine." I crouch down in front of her, "Now, you need to go over to that table. They'll prick your finger, but it doesn't hurt. I'll see you after."

I hug her and she walks over and waits in line.

"How many times is your name in this year, Sol?"

I stand up and turn around. It's Luna. "Hey, twenty-three." We hug, "What about you?"

"I'm sorry, you'll be fine though. I'm in eight times."

"That's not bad." I look over at the stage then back at Luna. The gong, indicating the reaping is about to start, goes off.

"well, we better get going," Luna says. "I'll see you tonight for Rose's birthday." We hug one last time, but before we separate, she kisses me on the cheek. "I love you, Sol," she whispers, then walks away.

What? She loves me? I've loved her ever since we first met when we were eight, but I didn't know she loved me too.

I walk into the line for the boys. They prick my finger and I walk over to where I have to stand. A few minutes later the escort for our district walks out on stage.

"Welcome everyone! Before we get started, I'd like to say, you make such wonderful clothes!" She speaks with a preppy up beat voice. "We have a marvelous video for you brought all the way from the Capitol." She claps her hands twice and the two screens next to her turn on. The same video as the past few years plays. The escort seems so into it. She enjoys the though of kids killing kids. The video ends and she looks up. "This year will be a little bit different, boys will be reaped first. With that said, let's begin!" She reaches into the glass bowl cheerfully. She picks one up but drops it back in and chooses another. She holds up the slip of paper and opens it up. She speaks loud and clear into the microphone, "Sol Pietra!"

I look down, frown, then look back up.

"C'mon up!"

I begin walking up and I pass by Luna. She looks at me with tears ready to flow. Then I pass Rose as I take my steps up on stage. Once on stage I look down at Rose. I mouth, "I love you." Her tears begin to break out but she stands still.

"Any volunteers?" The escort asks. Nothing. No one volunteers. I cross my arms and look down holding back my tears. "Now. Time for the girls."

I zone out for a few seconds and think about when my dad died and how im next. No. I can't think like that. I will win. For Luna, my mom, and most of all, Rose.

The escort lifts up the slip and opens it up. "Rose Pietra."

My head shoots over and I look at the escort.

"What!?" I shout.

"Excuse me?" She's in shock.

"That's my sister! You can't do this!" A tear breaks free from my eye and flows down my cheek.

"I'm sorry, but there's no-"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A voice comes from the crowd. I look over. A girl begins to walk up to the stage.

"Name? Age?" The escort asks.

"Thalia Hayes, 17."

She takes a deep breath as she gets next to me.

"Well that was exciting!" Our escort blares into the microphone. "And our tributes of District 8! Sol and Thalia! Now shake hands."

We both reach out and shake each other's hands. I whisper, "Thank you."


End file.
